Dusk Till Dawn
by bravevulnerability
Summary: 'She doesn't know where she is, only that he isn't here, that amidst all of the pain surging through her veins, she's more acutely aware of the harsh emptiness in the middle of her chest. She can't determine if it's because the bullet shattered her heart, or if it's because he took it with him when he left.' A Castle Halloween Bash 2017 entry. Set post 3x24, 'Knockout'.
1. Chapter 1

_"You'll never be alone,_  
 _I'll be with you from dusk till dawn,  
I'll hold you when things go wrong,  
I'll be with you from dusk till dawn,  
_ _Baby I'm right here"  
_ _-'Dusk Till Dawn' by Zayn feat. Sia_

* * *

She's standing on the podium, her heart in her throat as she delivers her speech for Montgomery. The sun is piercing through the starched fabric of her dress blues, sweat trickling down the back of her neck to dive down her spine, and her voice threatens to tremble with every word. But it's almost over. Her captain's burial is almost complete and then she can go home and… and try to heal, to grieve.

Because the battle may never end, but she needs to rest before she cracks.

Kate sucks in a breath, delivers the line Montgomery shared with her, the valuable words about the luck of finding someone to stand with you. She never would have bought into the notion before, always preferring to make her stand alone, but as she glances over to Castle… she decides that maybe she doesn't want to be so completely independent anymore.

After the funeral, after she feels at least a fraction more stable, she'll talk to him. Not about the hangar, Montgomery's death and the gut-wrenching remorse that comes with it is still too raw, but about them. About what she said the night before, about how they were over.

Kate returns her gaze to the crowd, fellow officers, police chiefs, Montgomery's family, and tries not to look at their faces as she prepares to wrap up her eulogy.

"Our captain would want us to carry on the fight," she begins, but her sentence never finds completion. "And even if there is-"

" _Kate_!"

She doesn't have the chance to look, to process, only hears the shout of her name from Castle's mouth before he lunges for her.

The bullet hits in the same moment that he does.

They slam to the ground. Castle tries to brace her body for the impact, his arm digging into the middle of her spine, but nothing could stop the rush of air from abandoning her, emptying from her lungs.

Castle pushes up on an elbow, but wavers, his arm buckling and their chests meeting as he collapses back down to her.

"Castle," she chokes. Her arms are uncooperative at her sides, but she's able to bend an elbow, hook a hand to the crook of his. She can barely breathe, the hot spill of liquid drenching her uniform. "Rick."

He lifts his head, blocks the unforgiving glare of the sun, and meets her eyes.

His skin is so pale, bloodless, and she squeezes his bicep with fingers that can barely feel.

The world is in chaos around them. Screams of panic, shouts of their names, frantic movement everywhere. But in the space between them, it's quiet, peaceful.

"I'm sorry," he rasps, his fingers twitching at the back of her skull. She didn't realize he's been cradling her head, didn't register the soft pressure of his thumb at the sensitive skin behind her ear, until now.

"For - what?" she gets out, blinking to ward off the multiplying black spots forming along the edges of her vision.

"Think it got us both," he wheezes, squeezing his eyes shut. Her brow furrows, not comprehending. "Bullet, Kate. Tried-"

"No," she whispers in horror, all she can manage. Her lungs are caving in between them. "Just me. Please-"

His forehead falls to rest against hers with a finality that reverberates through her bones.

The pain blooming through her chest is unbearable, the weight of Castle's body atop hers the only thing anchoring her to consciousness. But she can feel him threatening to slip away.

"Stay with me," she breathes, her eyes fluttering shut.

She feels the pained release of his exhale against her cheek. "Always. Always gonna be with you."

But it sounds less like a promise and more like a goodbye.

"Castle," she whimpers, trying to tilt her chin, be closer, but she doesn't think she's succeeding. She can't feel her hands anymore, her feet, everything going numb.

"I love you." The last thing she feels is the stroke of his thumb behind her ear, caressing her skin. "I love you, Kate."

She drifts away before she can say it back.

* * *

The first few times she wakes, it's to bright lights and searing agony that courses through her entire body, foreign voices and needles in her arms, wires twining around her. She doesn't know where she is, only that he isn't here, that amidst all of the pain surging through her veins, she's more acutely aware of the harsh emptiness in the middle of her chest.

She can't determine if it's because the bullet shattered her heart, or if it's because he took it with him when he left.

The first time she wakes with any semblance of coherency, her dad is at her bedside, stroking the hair back from her forehead.

"Hey sweetheart," he whispers, his thumb shaking as it sweeps along the corner of her eye. "You're okay."

Her lips part, but nothing comes out. Her mouth is so dry, her throat like sandpaper. Her dad notices immediately, rising from the chair he sits in to reach for something. He returns with a styrofoam cup and a straw that he positions at her chapped lips.

"Slow sips, honey," he murmurs and she cautiously takes one, winces at the spill of ice water down her throat. But the bite of the cold softens, soothes as it slides down her throat to spread through her chest, extinguishing some of the fire that lives within her ribcage on the way down.

"H-happened?" she gets out.

Her dad eases the straw from her lips, returns the cup to the small table at her bedside. The solemn expression on his face rips a stitch of worry through her stomach.

"You were shot at Montgomery's funeral, Katie," he begins to explain, but she doesn't need to hear anymore. All she needs to know is-

"Castle?"

Her dad's solemn expression turns to a grief that spears through her, sends what must be left of her heart sinking.

"He tried to get to you, tackled you to the ground," her dad relays, directing his gaze to his lap. "He reached you in time, but the bullet… it went through Rick, right into you."

She swallows hard even though it hurts.

"Where is he?" Her dad won't meet her eyes. "Dad."

"The bullet just missed your heart. Rick's body shielding yours… the doctors say it softened the impact, saved you from the worst of it. You'll heal-"

"But Castle?" she repeats, her voice breaking over his name. Her eyes are stinging by the time her dad finally lifts his.

"He didn't make it, sweetheart," Jim whispers, looking so heartbroken _for_ her. "They tried everything, but he - he died on the grass."

For a long moment, it doesn't make sense. She can't manage to comprehend her father's words, what they mean.

He didn't make it.

 _Always gonna be with you._

He didn't make it.

 _I love you._

He didn't make it.

The stinging in her eyes worsens, her bottom lip starts to tremble in a horrible way that she can't control, and her chest spasms with the sob that tears from her mouth.

"Katie," her dad tries to soothe. She hates for him to see her like this. Even after her mother died, she refused to break down in front of her father, to let him witness the visceral anguish that so quickly consumed her. He had enough of his own to deal with. But now… her grief is like a beast ripping through her and there is no stopping its rampage.

She can hear the faint sound of beeping, a heart monitor picking up speed, can hear her father's soft pleas for her to calm down, to breathe, hears the door to her room swing open. But it all sounds so far away, as if she's underwater and sinking fast. Drowning, she's drowning.

 _Kate._

She sifts frantically through the sea of unfamiliar faces, seeking the source of that voice. Castle's voice. He's here, she can feel it.

She's going crazy.

 _You have to breathe, Kate. You have to._

"Can't," she wheezes, jerking away from the doctor shining a light in her eyes. When the blinding beam of it dissipates from her vision, she finally finds him, standing behind her dad with that bright blue worry in his eyes.

She sucks in a breath.

"Good," he murmurs, but he's so far away, standing too far away. "Again, Kate. You have to keep breathing."

"Castle." She doesn't see who administers the dose, but knows the moment a fresh wave of morphine floods her bloodstream, already pulling her down. "Come back."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises, drifting in a little closer, but staying along the sidelines, out of the way. Still too far away. "I'll be right here."

It's the morphine, she tells herself as her eyelids begin to fall on their own volition. Morphine and trauma and everything else that causes hallucinations. But even once her eyes slip shut, she doesn't stop hearing his voice in her head, telling her to keep breathing.


	2. Chapter 2

She doesn't see him again after that. Not while she's in the hospital anyway.

Josh is the one at her bedside when she opens her eyes again. He holds her hand and tells her the logistics of her surgery, her recovery, and how grateful he is that she's okay before she can manage a word of her own.

"What if we just go away for a little while?" he suggests, his thumb stroking along the plastic band of her patient bracelet. "My family has that place in Vermont I was telling you about and it's-"

"Josh," she sighs. He squeezes her hand and sweeps anxious eyes over her bedridden body like she's one of his patients. "I can't."

His brow creases. "Are you worried about leaving the area? Because there's a great rehabilitation center near the property and an extra room in the house, if you wanted to ask your dad to come for a little while too. And, of course, I'll be there to look after you-"

"No, Josh," she huffs, because god, that sounds... sweet but horrible. Josh hovering over her while her dad… her dad doesn't even _know_ Josh. "I don't - I just can't, okay?"

"Kate," he says slowly. "You were just shot. According to your fellow detectives, the person who did it is still out there. You should be somewhere safe, where they can't find you."

She balls the hand not captured by his into a fist at her side.

"I _want_ them to find me. I want to find _them_ ," she growls, her blood already boiling with the need for it, for vengeance. Even as Josh looks at her like she's completely lost it. "They killed my mother, my captain, my - they killed _Castle_ , Josh. I'm not going to let them get away with this."

But Josh is straightening in his seat and releasing her hand. "So, that's what this is about? Castle?"

It's her turn to feel the confusion sweep across her face.

"Kate, isn't Castle the one who caused all of this? He's the one who dug into your mother's case again, the one who dragged you into it-"

"Josh," she grits out, closing her eyes as her heart begins to pound with rage she's not yet strong enough to handle.

"I'd never wish the guy dead, but I will say that he knew the risks and maybe he got what he-"

"Don't." She digs her nails into her palm, one push away from piercing her own skin. If she wasn't in a hospital bed with limited range of motion, she would have slapped him by now.

But Josh must be feeling brave today, because he doesn't listen to her. He keeps talking.

"You were shot because of him. Montgomery is _dead_ because of him-"

" _Stop it_!" she snaps, gasping as her chest heaves painfully. He leans in to help, but she bats his hand away. She doesn't want him to touch her, doesn't even want to look at him. "Don't you - don't you dare say another word about him."

"Fine," Josh sighs and rises from the chair at her side. "I'll go."

Her teeth are grit to maintain a semblance of control over the fierce spread of fire through her upper body, over the tears crowding at the rims of her eyes. "Good idea."

He remains at her bed for a moment longer, probably hoping for her to spare him one last glance, but she refuses. She could have loved him, she tried to love him, but it wasn't right then and it isn't right now. He repulses her right now.

"I'm sorry for everything that's happened, Kate. Just - try to take care of yourself."

She nods and waits with uneven breaths through her nose to hear the sound of his footsteps growing further and faint as he departs from her bedside. The soft click of the door opening and closing has her releasing a careful exhale, but when she does finally lift her gaze, someone else has entered in Josh's place.

"Alexis."

Castle's daughter is standing in the doorway with red-rimmed eyes that are as bright as her hair and devastation in every line of her face. She's no longer wearing her funeral clothes, the simple black dress, but she remains in clothing that is black from head to toe, a sharp contrast to the alabaster of her skin, the ice blue of her eyes.

She looks so much older than sixteen.

Alexis shuts the door and Kate prepares for the outpour of grief, anger, and rightful blame. One thing she knows about victims of loss is that they almost always need someone to hold responsible for their pain, to establish the fault where it is due. Castle's death is all Kate's fault. She deserves whatever fury Alexis decides to unleash on her.

His daughter clears her throat, Kate holds her breath-

"How are you?"

Kate's mouth goes dry. Small talk was the last thing she expected.

"I'm - okay," she gets out, watching Alexis nod and inch closer to the foot of Kate's hospital bed.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" Alexis asks, her eyes scaling along the cluster of machines surrounding Kate's bed.

She considers lying, but she does enough of that with her doctors and after the conversation she just had with Josh, she doesn't have it in her right now.

"Yeah," she admits, earning Alexis's nod of understanding.

"Me too."

Kate squares her jaw to stop it from shaking. "I know."

"You do," Alexis agrees, venturing close enough to stand at her bedside now, but her eyes remain trained on the hands tangled together in front of her. "You know better than anyone. Not just because you lost a parent too." Alexis looks up. "But because it's him."

Kate swallows, but refuses to avert her gaze from Alexis's bloodshot eyes.

"Yes. Because it's him."

Alexis's bottom lip begins to quiver, but she bites down hard to still it. "Did you love him?"

Her heart isn't going to survive this conversation.

"I-"

"Because, he never told me, but he loved you. He had to. He's never - I've never seen him care about anyone the way he cared about you."

Kate releases a slow breath through her parted lips. "I loved him. I loved him for a while, longer than I thought."

Alexis nods again, but she's sniffling, swiping a hand over her eyes. "Then will you help me?"

Kate blinks past some of the burn in her eyes even though it's pointless, it never completely goes away.

"Of course, anything you need," she concedes, attempting to sit up a little straighter in her hospital bed. "What were you-"

"I want you to find the person who shot him, shot you both," Alexis states, grief giving way to quiet rage, the same desperate look in her eyes that Kate often sees in the mirror when she's deep in her mother's case. "I want you to kill them."

She knows better than to encourage this mindset, to give absolution to the ice in Alexis's eyes and the malice in her voice. She doesn't want Alexis to turn out like she has, to end up shot and laid up in a hospital bed because she just couldn't let it go. To lose everyone who matters most to her in the process.

"Alexis." His daughter holds Kate's gaze and fists her hands at her sides. She's probably expecting a lecture, some speech about being the better person. But maybe the only way to stop the cycle is to give Alexis what Kate never got.

Justice.

"That's been my plan from the moment I woke up."

Alexis's shoulders loosen just slightly, but the resolution fails to dissolve from her features. She doesn't look relieved, nor hopeful, but some of the frenzied desperation in her gaze eases.

"I'll find them and I'll make them pay for what they did," she vows to his daughter. "Even if it kills me."


	3. Chapter 3

She asks her dad to take her to the cabin, to give her a summer of solitude to recover. He doesn't fight her on the idea, but Jim Beckett is hesitant and she can't blame him. She's never been good at following doctor's orders, at taking it easy, but something tells her that isn't her father's predominant concern.

"Katie," he says as he's dropping her off, her bags in the backseat and bottles of prescription pain medications in her lap. He pulls into the gravel driveway, the rest of the world falling away amidst the embrace of the woods.

"I'll be okay, Dad," she promises, but the expression on his face remains doubtful.

"Kate, I know Rick was-"

"Dad. Please," she interrupts him softly. "I can't."

"I know," he murmurs and he does, better than anyone. Only her father could possibly understand what she's feeling. "All I'm going to say is that he cared about you, didn't want you to drown in your mother's death. He wouldn't want you to drown in his either."

Kate purses her lips and eases the car door open. "I know."

But she made a promise to Alexis, to herself. And Castle isn't here to stop her anymore.

Her dad helps her with her duffel, carrying it to the door for her and making sure that she's safe and settled in before he gives her a reluctant hug goodbye. She waits until he's disappeared down the driveway, completely out of sight, to drop her forehead to the surface of the front door.

It's been over a week since Montgomery's funeral, since she was shot and Castle was… killed. Her chest constricts with a brutal ache every time she thinks about it, so she's been trying not to. She's been trying to channel every part of her mind into focusing on avenging him instead, but she knows the power of grief well and it never stops consuming her.

She misses him.

"Kate?" She jerks so harshly that she bangs her head against the door, nearly tears her stitches as she spins around. "Whoa, careful."

Her eyes fly around the room, but there's no one here. No one except the man standing beside her, watching with gentle concern.

Castle.

Kate buries her head in her hands, winds her fingers through her hair and tugs. She's losing it. She's imagining him in the same room with her as a way of coping and this - god, it's worse than after her mother died.

"Kate," the voice, _his_ voice, calls again. "It's okay. Just breathe."

"You're not real," she grits out. But the weight of a hand on her shoulder _feels_ very real.

"Not technically," he hedges, sounding so very Castle that she has to lift her head, look at him.

She can see the outline of his body, can distinguish the funeral clothes he wears, the bright red stain across his chest, the features of his face. He manages a smile for her, that sad one he wears when the situation is dire but he's still trying for her.

Kate reaches for him with a shaking hand, trips her fingers down the front of his chest, over the bloodstain.

The blood is dried, the fabric stiff, and his body solid beneath her touch.

He definitely feels pretty real.

"How?" she croaks, her fingers climbing to the collar of his shirt, slipping over the space just under his jaw. She yearns for the beat of a pulse beneath her fingertips, but his skin is silent.

"I don't know, I wasn't exactly given an explanation," he sighs, gingerly covering her hand at the side of his throat. His palm is warm over hers. "I remember being shot, remember you." He draws her hand down, easing some of the pressure the extend of her arm causes her chest, but allows it to remain in the embrace of his between them. "Everything was just dark. I thought that's all death was, but then, when you woke up in the hospital room, I was there too."

"I remember," she whispers, unable to look away from the sight of his hand cradling hers. "Where did you go?"

"I never really left. You needed time to recover without being overwhelmed," he shrugs. "I spent some time with Alexis, my mother-"

"You talked to Alexis?" she breathes, lifting hopeful eyes to his. They're an ethereal blue, as beautiful as they always were, but even more vibrant now. Alive.

But they dull a little at the mention of his daughter.

"I - she can't see me," he reveals with a frown. "I tried to communicate with her, my mother, even the boys. But I think I'm only meant to be seen by one person."

Her brow knits for only a moment before the realization strikes her. "Me?"

"You," he murmurs, stroking his thumb over the inside of her wrist, her pulse.

"I'm sorry," Kate whispers automatically, withdrawing her hand. Castle stares back at her, his lips parting on a question, but she shakes her head. "I'm the reason you're dead and now trapped in this - this in between. You're stuck with just me while your family is grieving and-"

"None of this is your fault," he says, his voice stern and both of his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. "Motorcycle Boy is an asshole, but he's right about one thing. I caused this, Kate. I dredged up your past-"

"No," she growls, glaring up at him with that stupid sting back in her retinas and pricking tears in the corners of her eyes. "I won't… wait, you were listening?"

The sheepish expression that crosses his face almost makes everything feel normal again.

"Beckett, if I'm like your guardian angel, it's kinda my job to stick close."

She rolls her eyes. "You're not my guardian angel."

"Always going to be with you, though. I promised you that and as long as I'm here, I intend to keep that promise."

"You never should have promised me anything, never should have jumped in front of the damn bullet in the first place," she snaps. "It should have been me."

His hands tighten at her shoulders. "I'd do it again."

"You had a daughter, a family to live for."

"I wasn't just going to watch someone I-" He wavers, but his lack of mortality seems to have given him an extra dose of courage. "I love you, I wasn't going to let you die. I'm still not going to let you die."

His declaration of love, so strong and steady and said while she's conscious and not bleeding out beneath him, is put on hold once more as Kate narrows her gaze on him.

"Are you planning to listen in on every private conversation I have just because you're… a ghost now?" she questions with an arch of her eyebrow.

But Castle doesn't waver this time. "I wasn't trying to listen in, but that's not the point. You basically pledged your own death to my daughter."

"I promised her I would find justice for you," she corrects through grit teeth. "I won't let her go through what I did, to live without the closure, to live with the loss while your murderer walks free."

"And what about for you? Are closure and justice really worth giving your life for? Because your mother wouldn't want that and I damn sure don't."

"It doesn't matter what you want." Kate pushes his hands from her shoulders, biting back the grunt of pain it evokes. "You're gone."

Castle glares back at her, his eyes burning the same shade of fiery blue they did on the night of their last fight in her apartment.

"I don't know what I am, what we are," he says, stepping closer, practically towering over her now. "But I'm here with you and I'm not going anywhere. And I'm _not_ going to stand by and let you get yourself killed."

"I promised Alexis-"

"Alexis would hate herself if you died trying to do _anything_ for her. You really want to make her live with that too?" he hisses. She purses her lips, unable to argue with that, unable to say what _his_ daughter would want, what she could live with. "There are other ways to end this, Kate. Ryan and Esposito are on the case, they'll find new evidence and maybe my death will be helpful to-"

"No, no, don't you get it?" she groans, too much - too many thoughts, emotions, varying levels of pain - rushing through her all at once. Kate leans back against the door with her arms banded around her upper body to stop it from breaking apart.

"Kate," Castle murmurs, following her with his hands in a way she never would have allowed before. But she can't deny him, his touch. Not when she was certain she missed out on her chance to experience it forever.

Her chest spasms and she grinds her teeth, bites back the whimper that slips out anyway. One of his hand hovers at her ribs, over her incision scar, before joining the other in skimming along her arms.

"What's the point without you?" she wheezes, releasing the tension in her shoulders to the cradle of his palms at her biceps. "I was - I knew I wasn't going to be able to have the kind of relationship I wanted, to _be_ who I wanted, until I was able to put my mom's case to rest. But now?" She meets his eyes with moisture already filling hers again. She's so sick of crying. "I realized everything too late and now you're - you're here right now, but you're gone."

She never believed in ghosts, but even if she did, she never would have imagined a ghost could possess the ability to look as heartbroken as he does now.

Kate closes her eyes as more tears begin to form, but the brush of his hand to her cheek has them fluttering open.

"I'm here right now," he echoes, grazing his thumb along the paper thin skin beneath her eye. "I - I don't know how any of this works, how long I'll get to stay, but for now, I'm with you, Kate."

For now. Shit, she wasn't even thinking of the possibility that she could lose him all over again.

She just got him back.

"It's going to be okay," he promises, even though it isn't. It can't be.

His other hand ascends to cup her jaw and Kate leans into the touch, leans into him. She's too far gone to be ashamed in admitting that she's wondered what it would feel like to be held by him before, to be wrapped up in his arms and pressed against his chest. Especially after they kissed.

She's wondered what a lot of things would be like with him after they kissed.

His arms lace tentatively around her frame and Kate rests her head to his shoulder, lays her cheek to his clavicle.

"You still smell like you," she mumbles, earning a surprised huff of laughter from his chest.

"Fan of my scent, Beckett?" he teases, soothing her with the run of his knuckles along her spine, between her shoulder blades.

"Mm, just wouldn't have expected it to go on with you to… the afterlife," she shrugs, fingering the edge of his suit jacket. She can feel the stiff patch of fabric against her chest, aligned with the bullet hole between her breasts. "Can you feel it?" she asks, easing out of his embrace to touch her hand to the middle of his chest.

She wants to undo the buttons of his dress shirt, examine what lies beneath, but just because he's undead, does that really mean all of the boundaries that were between them have been erased?

"Not really," he answers, glancing down to the spot her fingers have curled over. "It's just like a strange tugging sensation."

She nods, trying not to think about how the bullet tore through his back, splintered through his chest, through muscles and bone, through his heart. How it killed him and found its home in her.

"C'mon, Kate, you need to eat something." He nudges her towards the kitchen. "I may be dead, but I'm sure I can still cook a good meal."

She glares at him for the attempt at humor, but lets him lead her to the cabin's kitchen.

She's still not wholly convinced that this isn't some strange dream, an equally pleasant and devastating hallucination, but she's assured of one thing. His cooking is still exceptional.

* * *

In the hours that follow, they test Castle's ability to experience sunlight, water, food, and pain.

"Ow!" He smacks at her hand when she pinches his side. "Beckett, we've figured out that aside from being invisible, I'm pretty much the same."

She smirks as he tries to shift away from her on the couch, but doesn't go far enough.

She rubs her knuckles to the offended area she pinched below his ribcage. "Do you think you're still able to sleep?"

Castle glances down to her hand and then out the window, to the setting sun across the lake. "I don't really feel tired, but I guess we're going to find out. All I know is that _you_ need to sleep."

Kate rolls her eyes, but she can't argue. She's been so wrapped up in the conundrum of his revival that her exhaustion has been put on hold, but she feels it now, feels the pulse of aggravation in her chest and through her incision scar.

She starts towards her childhood bedroom, still adorned in soft colors and knick-knacks from her youth. She uses the connected bathroom to brush her teeth, swallow half a pain pill despite the prescribed dosage of a whole one, but when she shuffles to the bed, he's not in the room like she expected.

"Castle?"

He appears at the doorway within a second and she wonders if it's because of some supernatural ability, or if he was just waiting outside the whole time.

"I figured I could stay in your dad's room," he says, but Kate bites her lip.

"No." His brow arches. "I'm - not even sure that any of this is real, that I'm not dreaming or still in the hospital in a coma," she mutters, rubbing gently at her side. But no, the pain feels far too sharp to be imagined. "Can you just…"

Kate eases down onto the edge of the bed, lowers her gaze to the space beside her, and waits

But Castle doesn't. He crosses the room, takes a seat on her opposite side, and offers her a soft smile when she glances up.

"Thanks."

"I probably would have ended up in here anyway," he muses, lifting the covers for her to slide her legs beneath. Kate shoots him a look, but he merely shrugs. "Guardian angel, Beckett. _Guard_."

"Stop saying that," she mutters, slipping under the sheets and sinking back into the pile of pillows he's quick to arrange behind her.

She stares up to see him watching her and he hastily shifts, repositions himself against the headboard. He was able to change out of his funeral clothes, thankfully. She doesn't think she would have been able to handle seeing him in the all black attire he died in for much longer. Besides, he looks so much nicer in borrowed clothing from her father's closet that fits just a little too snugly.

"I'll be here when you wake up."

She nods, but fights the pull of sleep nonetheless, blinking past the drag of the pain pill and thoughtlessly reaching for him as she begins to fade. Her fingers land at his side, over the lattice of his ribs and curled in her dad's old t-shirt.

* * *

When she wakes the next morning, he's awake - still awake, still here - and holding her. His arm a gentle loop around her back, his side a welcome heat along hers, and the wall of his chest warm under her cheek. She longs for the beat of his heart beneath her ear, but all is silent.

Kate closes her eyes to the rays of morning light streaming in through the window and nestles deeper into his embrace.

"Kate?" he whispers, combing the hair back from her forehead. "Hurting?"

"No," she mumbles, ignoring the throb in her opposite side, the stabbing pain in the middle of her sternum as she shifts closer to him. "Just stay like this."

He relaxes beneath her, adjusts his arm around her shoulders. "I'm staying."

She hums, but the last thought that crosses her mind before she drifts back to sleep is _for now._


	4. Chapter 4

They spend the entire summer together. She heals, struggles through every single day of recovery, and he helps. Whether it be giving her the space and privacy when she needs it, or being there for her when she doesn't, soothing the pain of her brutalized body with his words or a gentle touch. One way or another, he helps.

She's nervous about returning to the city, though, anxious about going back to work. And despite his lack of showing it, she can feel that Rick is too.

For nearly three months, they've been holed up in a cabin in the woods, away from the rest of the world. What if he disappears when they go back? What if he doesn't and she forgets that only she is able to witness his existence, forgets not to talk to him aloud in public spaces? There are just too many variables with unexpected consequences.

"It's going to be fine, Kate," he assures her, always using her first name now. Her surname only crosses his lips when he's teasing with her, otherwise, the smooth syllable of _Kate_ continues to slide past his tongue. "Actually, if you think about this, maybe it's a good thing."

She narrows her eyes on him and folds another shirt into her duffel sitting on her bed.

"Think about it," he continues, neatly organizing her toiletries into a ziplock bag. "You'll basically have an invisible man helping you solve cases. Your closure rate is going to skyrocket and you get to take all of the credit."

"You think I care about that?" she sighs, stuffing the last of her clothes into the bag.

Castle drifts in from the open doorway of the bathroom, but she doesn't look up from the gaping mouth of her luggage. She doesn't need to, she can feel him haunting at her back, his warmth wrapping around her spine.

"No, but I know you still care about the victims."

"I care about _you,_ " she snaps under her breath. "About your daughter. About ending this and making the man who put a bullet in us _pay_."

His hands weigh heavy at her shoulders, but it's a pressure she's grown accustomed to. It's been three months and while she's been too focused on her own recovery, on the case and Castle's strange survival, she isn't blind to the changes that have taken place between them.

Though, anyone else would be. Does it even matter that he touches her now - calming her with the warm spread of his hands over scars when the ache is too severe, the brush of his lips to her forehead when the tears just won't stop, and the wrap of his arms around her in the middle of the night when she can't sleep? Even when she can?

Does it matter when it's only real to the two of them?

"One step at a time, Kate," he murmurs at her back. She huffs and snags one of his hands from her shoulder, tangles her fingers through his.

Castle tugs, barely needing to apply any force to have her spine sinking into his chest.

"We're going to go back to work, solve cases with the boys, and find whoever's behind your mother's murder, mine, and your shooting," he vows, his lips just a breath away from brushing her ear. He kisses the top of her head, releases her hand. "Now let's finish packing because your dad will be here soon."

She sighs as he steps away from her, back into the bathroom, and tries not to wonder what happens when they do find justice for his stolen life.

Kate watches the play of muscles along his back while he packs away her lotion.

With the case solved and justice served, does his purpose no longer exist? Will _he_ no longer exist here with her like this?

What if absolution means abolishing him?

He must feel her staring and glances up, wiggles his eyebrows solely to lighten the mood. Kate rolls her eyes, but her heart swells uncomfortably in her chest.

Is it really worth having if she can't have him?

* * *

Her dad drops them off at her apartment later that afternoon. Castle only stays with her for a few minutes, helping her unpack, before he parts with her to check in on his family.

She doesn't think of stopping him, of course, encouraging him to go, but she does find herself awaiting his return after only an hour. Aside from the days in which he would leave her at the cabin to explore the woods, she's never been away from him for very long since his death and the few hours of absence has her mending heart growing wary.

He knocks on her front door later that night, even though he has the ability to simply walk through it, locked or not. But she opens it to him nonetheless, feeling her lips quirk at the sight of him before they fall into a frown.

"What's wrong?" she asks, easing the door shut behind him. His features are crestfallen, his eyes grey, and… and there's a picture frame in his hand.

Kate slips it from his fingers without a fight, purses her lips against the crack in her heart as she stares down at the photo of Rick, Alexis, and Martha.

"You should stay at the loft tonight," she whispers, handing the frame back to him.

But Castle shakes his head. "I don't belong there anymore."

"Castle, you'll always belong there. You'll always belong with your mother and daughter," she argues, cupping the back of his hand that clings to the frame. "No matter where you are or how long you're gone, they will _always_ be your family."

His eyes fall shut. She's never actually seen him cry, not prior to that day in the cemetery when his tears leaked onto her cheeks and mixed with hers, and it has her jerking forward now.

She can't lift her arms as high as she would like, but she winds one around his back and forces the other to cooperate in lacing around his neck. He buries his face in hers, the picture pressed to her spine as he grips her tight enough to hold them both together.

"I just miss them," he rasps, his breath hot and ragged at her throat. "And I hate to see them so broken because of me."

"Not because of you," she breathes, brushing her fingers through his hair.

 _Because of me_ , she wants to say. A sniper may have killed him, but she led the gunman to the gravestones with her relentless digging into her mother's case.

Kate grazes a kiss to his temple. She knows that Castle thrives on words, but no comforting sentences will come to her lips, so she continues to hold him in the foyer of her apartment until her body begins to shake from the strain.

"Shit, Kate," he mutters, reaching for her arm and gingerly untangling it from his neck. He eases it down to fold against his chest, but doesn't let her go. "You're going to hurt yourself."

She rolls her eyes, but rests her forehead to his jaw. "I was fine."

His chest expands against hers. "Thank you."

She squeezes her eyes shut, disgusted by the idea of him being grateful to her for anything, but doesn't respond. He doesn't need an argument, he just needs-

"There's no one I'd rather be haunting."

Kate scoffs, but he's grinning against her cheek.

"Still not funny," she grumbles, squirming out of his arms. It's late and her body is beginning to cramp with irritation and sing with soreness. She tilts her head towards the bedroom. "Want to lie down with me?"

It's no different from the time spent staying at her father's cabin. After the first few weeks, neither of them asked anymore, he just followed her to bed and climbed in beside her, remained until morning. But here, in her home, where they have fought in her living room and shared meals at her dining room table, it _is_ different. It's real.

"Of course."

He nudges her forward and she leads the way, stepping into her en suite with a pair of cotton shorts and an oversized t-shirt to change into. She dresses without thinking, brushes her teeth and uses the bathroom like she would any other night, and sucks in a shallow breath through her nose as she coils her fingers around the doorknob.

When she emerges, he's sitting on her bed with the picture frame still cradled in his hands.

"Put it on your side." Castle glances up to her, but she merely nods to the nightstand closest to him.

"I have a side?" he inquires with an arch of his brow, but the smile is bursting at the seam of his lips.

"I mean, as long as you're here…" she shrugs, letting him see the smirk curling along the edge of her mouth and crawling into bed next to him.

She watches him prop the picture up on the nightstand as she settles beneath the sheets, right next to an eccentric blue lamp she found at a street fair and a framed photograph of her parents. He skims the tip of his index finger along both frames, stares for a long moment, before turning back to her.

"Thank you," he says again, but she shakes her head and reaches for his shirt.

She tugs on the fabric, but he's already following the reel of her arm to slide under the covers and across the space of sheets to her. She allows him to arrange himself around her, always so aware of her scars, the frustrating and fragile state of her body, and sighs contently once half of her frame is draped atop his side.

Castle twines his fingers through her hair, massages her scalp in that hypnotizing way that makes sleep come even faster.

"No one I'd rather have haunting me," she mumbles, smiling into his sternum. She can practically feel the returning grin he presses to the top of her head, the rush of happiness in place of the missing heartbeat in his chest.

Kate closes her eyes and lets herself drift, anchored by Castle, solid and warm beneath her. But before she surrenders to the waves, she feels the brush of his lips against her hair, the whisper of words to her crown.

"I love you, Kate."

She maintains her latest habit of slipping away before she can say anything back.


	5. Chapter 5

Working with him without actually having him present is a challenge. Castle is consistently at her side like he always was, but they aren't able to theorize, to speak past more than shared glances while in the precinct. He saves his opinions for the drives to crime scenes, the rides back to her apartment at night, and the moments she can get away with talking to herself on streets of crowded people or in an empty break room.

It's frustrating, but not as frustrating as the shift in treatment towards her at the Twelfth.

The boys look at her like a wounded animal for the first week, concerned yet cautious of her at the same time. Their new captain, Gates, fights her on every move, questioning her objectivity, her clarity.

"You just lost a man who I'm told was like a partner to you here," Victoria Gates assesses on Kate's first day back. "And I've seen in your file what kind of actions grief has evoked from you in the past. How can I trust you to do your job without letting your emotions get in the way?"

"I'm going to sneak back in when she isn't here and leave a scratch on her nameplate," Castle mutters from beside her as they stand together in the woman's office, Montgomery's old office, but Beckett ignores him.

"My personal feelings may have driven me forward in investigating my mother's murder, but they have never affected my ability to work a case and bring justice to a victim's family, sir."

Gates was skeptical of believing her then and is apparently still unwilling to trust her now, two weeks later, because the woman insists Beckett is in need of a new partner.

"Who the hell does she think she is?" Castle rants while they stand in the break room. He's been coaching her on how to make the perfect cup of coffee since she was reinstated last week, but she can never seem to get it quite right. "A new partner? And _that guy_?"

He thrusts a hand towards the slit blinds of the break room window, where they can see Detective Riley Hayes speaking with Gates next to Beckett's desk.

"Castle," she murmurs under her breath.

"This is insane. How is Mr. Perfect going to have your back when he's constantly looking in the mirror?" Rick hisses, even though there is little evidence that Hayes is vain. Just attractive. "No. No way. How are we going to talk in the car? Where am I going to _sit_? In the back like some perp?"

"Castle," she grits out, stirring her subpar cup of coffee. "I will handle it."

He drops down to the edge of the table and crosses his arms, pouting. The most childish phantom she's ever seen.

"Yo, Beckett," Esposito quips, strolling into the break room with a smirk. But she's glad for it, welcomes any teasing, because at least it means things are somewhat back to normal and they can look her in the eye again. "Meet your new partner yet?"

Castle growls and she refrains from shooting him a look.

"I don't need a new partner. I'll make Gates see that," she assures him.

Ryan scoffs, right on Esposito's heels. "Remember her nickname, Beckett? _Iron Gates_? You really think you're going to convince her?"

"I plan to try," she murmurs, lifting the coffee cup to her lips. She takes a tentative sip, but it isn't bad. Just not as good as it used to be.

"Five bucks says she ends up working with Hayes by the end of the day," Ryan wagers with Espo.

"End of the day? End of the hour," Esposito counters, holding out his hand for his partner to shake.

"I bet a thousand on you," Castle mutters from the table.

Kate smirks and sets her coffee back down near the machine. "And if you both lose?"

"Not gonna happen, Beckett," Ryan singsongs.

But she strides past them with Castle trotting after her, requesting a private conversation with Gates in her office. The other woman doesn't look thrilled, but she doesn't deny Kate as she begins to explain all of the reasons she doesn't need a partner, how she never needed one before and her closure rate was still the highest among the homicide division.

"My team and I have a rhythm, sir. And it works," Beckett insists. "I mean no disrespect to Detective Hayes, I have little doubt that he's more than capable of working in this department." Castle scoffs. "But he's a transfer, I would need extra time to train him, and I don't see it necessary when my team isn't in need of another member at the moment."

Gates quirks a dubious eyebrow at her from across the desk. "After losing Mr. Castle, a man who - despite not being a real part of law enforcement - was treated as a member of your team, it sounds like you _are_ in need of another member, Detective Beckett."

"Castle was an asset, but Ryan, Esposito, and I operated just fine before he began to ride along with me on cases," Beckett states, but she can feel the uncomfortable shift of Castle's demeanor at her back. "I cared about him, I miss him, but I didn't need him for this. I don't."

Gates narrows her eyes on Kate, not completely buying it.

"Okay, Detective. Prove to me within this following month that you can continue operating as well as you were before, same closure rate and all, and I'll reconsider my idea of partnering you with another detective. In the meantime, I'll have Johnson train Hayes, so he _will_ be ready within a month if you're not up to par."

"Deal, sir."

Kate walks out of Gates's office with a smirk for Ryan and Esposito, but her stomach is tugging with a twinge of guilt as Castle lags behind her.

* * *

She doesn't have a chance to speak to him for the rest of the day and he doesn't offer any of his usual remarks that don't require her answers, but remind her that he's still there with them. It's unsettling for her and she finds herself feeling eager for the end of the day, for the moment she slides into the car with Castle in the seat beside her.

"You know I didn't mean it, don't you?" He's staring at his lap, the frown lines carved deep into the corners of his mouth. Kate does a quick sweep with her eyes over the empty parking garage and reaches for his knee. "Castle."

"But you're right," he murmurs, covering her hand with the warm drape of his over her knuckles. "You didn't need me before and you won't need me now." His lips quirk just slightly, a hint of a smile that breaks her heart. "You're going to be okay, Kate."

She shakes her hand from beneath his and lifts it to his face, taking his chin and forcing him to look at her.

"Don't." His brow furrows, but she doesn't give him a chance to ask. Her heart is pounding too fast, fear spiking through her bloodstream, because he sounds like he's saying goodbye. "Everything I said to Gates was to stop her from giving me a new partner, because I don't want another partner."

"Kate, I'm not upset," he tries to gentle her, catching her fingers at his chin. "I just meant that you're good at your job and you don't need any help for that. You'll ease back into working as the lead detective, without a partner, and soon, everything else will come too-"

"You can't leave," she grits out, because she doesn't know what else to say.

"I'm not," he promises her. "Not right now anyway. At least, I don't think so. But when I do, I know you'll be-"

"Castle, this is the first time in my life that I can say I don't give a fuck about my job," she hisses. "I'd give it up for-" She pauses, realizes what she's saying. He does too, his eyes wide, almost horror filled. But it's… it's true, isn't it? "I'd give it up to keep you."

"Kate-"

"I know I told you that we were over, that night before Montgomery…" She draws her hand back from his jaw. "But we weren't. We aren't. So stop talking like you're leaving."

She swallows and focuses on starting the car, revving the engine and turning on the headlights.

"Okay," he murmurs, staring at her, but she's too afraid to look up, see what she's caused with her overflow of long harbored honesty. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she sighs, bracing her hands on the steering wheel. "Just stay."

"As long as I possibly can, Kate."

The resolution in his voice is comforting, his will to stay strong and washing away some of the sickening doubt from her stomach, but this entire conversation has only served to remind her that no matter how long she gets to keep him, no matter what she gives up, it won't be forever.

And she never would have fathomed it, but a forever without him no longer holds much appeal.


	6. Chapter 6

Kate hums around her cup of coffee.

"Good? I know you're partial to vanilla, but I added in some hazelnut flavoring," Castle grins, bracing his elbows atop the counter and watching her sip at the steaming latte he made for her.

He still has her coffee ready every morning, especially since he can no longer brew her a cup at the precinct, and she's come to value these moments with him before work, sitting at her kitchen counter, talking over a fresh cup together.

"Always good," she nods, converging her fingers around the steaming mug to absorb its warmth. Fall is merging into winter and the cold is starting to leach into her apartment. "I can never make it like you, even though you taught me how."

"Mm, maybe it's because I lied," he muses. "There's a special ingredient I kept a secret."

"Really?" she grins, feeling like an idiot because he has her grinning all the time these days. Not necessarily helping her sell the role of being a sane person healthily mourning his death over the past two months. "What is it?"

"Oh no, I'll tell you, but not until later. When I'm sure you won't need me anymore."

She sighs softly, but decides not to argue, not now. "Then don't tell me."

His eyes fall into that gentle cerulean she would catch glimpses of before his death, but the expression is unbidden now, the adoration brimming through his features.

"Kate, I was thinking-"

Her phone buzzes on the countertop between them and he huffs.

"Even as a dead guy, I'm still getting cut off," he mumbles, glaring at the device as it vibrates.

Kate rolls her eyes and untangles one of her hands from the cup, reaches for the phone. Her heart stills at the name on the screen.

"It's Alexis," she whispers, drawing it to her ear before he can respond. "Alexis?"

"Kate, I need you to come to the bank," Alexis chokes, her voice panicked, on the edge of tears. Kate's heart sinks. "Gram is - there's a robbery, hostages-"

"Text me the address." Kate is already abandoning her coffee on the counter and striding for the front door.

"They won't let me through," Alexis gets out. "She's my grandmother and they won't-"

"Alexis, I'm coming, okay? I'm on my way."

She listens to his daughter attempt a deep breath. "Yeah, okay."

The line goes dead and Kate shoves her phone into her pocket. Castle is already grabbing her coat for her, holding open the door.

"What's going on?" he questions.

"Some kind of bank robbery. Alexis is going to send me the address," she murmurs, locking the door in a hurry behind them and jogging for the stairs. "I think your mom is one of the hostages.

Castle's footsteps fall silent at her back. Kate bites her lip, turns to find him frozen at the top of the stairs, his face like ash.

"Rick." She crosses the step dividing them and snags one of the limp hands from his side, gripping it tightly in hers. "I'm going to get her out."

He blinks, sucks in a quick breath, and snaps his eyes to her with a nod of resolution.

"I'll help you-"

"Castle," she murmurs, squeezing his hand a little harder, probably firm enough to cut off his circulation if he had any. "If there's a way for you to help me, you can, but you have to promise me that you'll stay out of the way."

"Kate, my _mother-_ "

"I know," she says softly, tugging him down to the stair that separates them. "But I can't worry about you, about exposing… this, if I'm going to focus on getting your mom out of there safely, making sure Alexis is okay."

Castle swallows, but nods again. A little more resigned this time. "I promise."

She squeezes his fingers once more before letting him go, racing with him the rest of the way down the stairs.

Alexis texts her the name of the bank, the street address, before they make it to the car. Kate uses the red and blue lights on her car to speed through traffic and calls the boys, even Gates, on the way. Castle is silent throughout the drive, but the anxiety radiates from him in waves, growing to the strength of a tsunami by the time they finally arrive on the scene.

Alexis is waiting for her, standing in front of the bank, as close to the entrance as she can be, but Kate almost doesn't recognize the girl.

"She… dyed her hair," Castle whispers, stumbling out of the car after Kate. He's right, Alexis's once vibrant locks of red have been colored to a black as dark as a raven.

"Kate," Alexis breathes as Kate approaches the crime scene barricades, rushing forward to meet her and snagging her by the arms. "Please, you have to do something. They're going to start killing hostages soon." Alexis is bruising her forearms with her grip and Kate reaches for her trembling shoulders.

"Let me find the hostage negotiator. I'll see if I can make my way in," Kate tells her with a gentle squeeze before taking a step back, but Alexis catches her wrist.

"She's all I have left, Kate," Alexis grits out and she watches Castle begin to crack at his daughter's side.

"I know. I know, I won't let you lose her too. I promise." Kate leaves Rick with Alexis to run to the surveillance van she saw on the way in.

The head of negotiations doesn't take her input seriously, arguing with her at every turn until one of the hostages suffers a seizure and they need a paramedic to go inside the bank. Or, at least, someone dressed like a paramedic.

Castle finds her in the van's tiny bathroom while she's buttoning up her uniform.

"I'm going in with you," he states and she grits her teeth, fumbles over the last two buttons.

"Castle," she mutters under her breath. "You promised me."

"I also promised myself to look out for you," he answers, swatting her tripping fingers away and slipping the button at her collar into place.

"I don't need-"

"I'm not letting you go in alone," he growls, matching her glare with one of his own until she has no choice but to relent, shove past him.

Castle is at her side as she enters the bank, while she hoists the man having a seizure onto the gurney, and when she meets Martha's gaze with what she hopes is reassurance in hers.

"Don't react," Castle says. She's strapping Sal Martino onto the gurney and her stomach is already sinking at his words. "I'm going to stay here, with my mother."

Her eyes flutter shut.

"Kate," he calls to her and she opens her eyes, but is forced to refrain from looking at him. "I'll be your eyes inside. Maybe I can even find a way to signal you if I learn anything useful."

She fiddles for a few extra seconds with the gurney before the head of the robbery operation reminds her to speed things along.

"Don't be upset," Castle murmurs and her nostrils flare. _Don't be upset?_ "I'm going to be fine. I swear. And you already know what to do if I'm not, if my mother's not."

She migrates to the head of the gurney, prepares to wheel Sal out of the bank.

"Just look after Alexis." She almost scoffs. His daughter is relying on Kate to kill the people who murdered her father, she's dying her hair black and wearing her grief in her eyes, and he wants Kate to be the one watching out for her? "And you already know how much I love you."

Kate's gaze flies up to see him, but he's already leaning in, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Now go, the leader, that Trapper John wannabe, is about to notice you're taking too long."

She tries to take in a breath, swallow past the lump of words in her throat, but she can't. All she can do is will her legs to move, her hands to guide the gurney out through the bank's entrance without looking back.

* * *

Kate's in the van discussing the next move, how to evacuate more hostages, what Trapper John and his crew of fellow fake doctors are really after, when the explosion rocks the vehicle, rocks her.

 _Castle._

She staggers under the force of impact, but doesn't take the time to regain her footing, rushing out of the van the moment it steadies.

The world is a smokescreen of grey and white all around her, the bank nothing more than a pile of rubble and framework, and if she wasn't at risk of choking on her own voice, she thinks she would have screamed his name.

Instead, she moves, already grabbing a spare vest from atop a nearby SWAT vehicle and stumbling towards the entrance.

She can hear the lead negotiator yelling at her to wait from behind, but she can't wait, can't handle the overwhelming possibility that he may really be dead this time, and there are a few other officers already rushing to join her.

Kate pierces her bottom lip with her teeth and sifts her way through the wreckage with the rest of the SWAT team, shining the beam of her flashlight through the smoke and biting back the call of his name the entire time.

Until she hears him calling hers.

"Kate? If you're there, I'm in a vault with all of the hostages," he shouts and she picks up her pace.

"They're in the back!" she yells to the others. "In the vault."

And just as Rick said, she can hear the coughing, the worried murmurs and soft cries, and see the room of people huddled and practically untouched behind a wall of steel bars. But her eyes are only searching for two people.

"Kate," he calls again, snagging her gaze with a little wave of his hand. He's sitting beside his mother, a small grin on his lips.

Her heart finally descends from her throat.

"God, Castle," she exhales, rushing forward to push open the door. She heads straight for him, for his mother.

"Oh, Katherine," Martha breathes, looking so relieved to see her. "I don't know how you did it, but I'm so glad it's you."

"Alexis called me," Kate explains, withdrawing the pocket knife from her belt.

"Smart girl," Martha sighs, lifting her bound wrists for Kate to cut free. "Richard always said you would stop at nothing for those you care about."

She flicks her gaze to him for only a moment and snaps the zip ties at his mother's wrists.

"He was right," Kate nods, tossing away the plastic bindings. "I'd do anything for him, you, Alexis."

"Of course, darling. Just as we'd do the same for you. That's kind of how family works," his mother winks and Kate's heart stutters at the implication, at Martha's soft smile.

"Told you they always liked you," he shrugs, watching the exchange from right next to his mother. But she can't help the punch of sorrow she feels to her gut at the reminder that he should be a part of this moment. Not on the outside looking in.

Kate helps Martha up from the ground and guides her through the rubble, out to the steady concrete of the streets where Alexis is arguing with a police officer. But her eyes lift at just the right moment, spy Kate and Martha emerging from the bank, and her lips fall apart around whatever harsh words the unfortunate uniform was receiving.

"Gram!" she cries, lurching forward and past the officer trying and failing to hold her back. Kate takes a step to the side as the girl barrels into Martha, allows Alexis to have a moment with her grandmother.

She eases an extra step back, straight into Castle's chest.

His hands grip her waist and she sighs, but doesn't shrug him off.

"I know you're mad at me-"

"Furious," she mumbles under her breath.

"You can yell at me later."

Alexis is lifting her head, her eyes seeking Kate, and she extends her arm from around Martha's shoulders. Martha notices, of course, glancing to Kate with a knowing gleam in her gaze, still so vibrant and mischievous despite everything, and mimics her granddaughter. Castle nudges her forward and Kate can't help stepping forward into their embrace, their family.


	7. Chapter 7

"Darling, you must come to dinner," Martha insists, her arms linked through both Kate's and Alexis's as they walk down the street to hail a cab.

"I would love to, Martha. But you and Alexis look exhausted," Kate points out. The three of them have spent the last two hours after Martha's rescue giving statements while Beckett also coordinated with Esposito and Ryan. The boys dedicated their day to seeking a motive behind the robbery, finding far more than planned.

"Stay with the Castles, Beckett. We got it covered," Espo reassured her, leading the investigation into Agnes Fields and making the connection to Sal Martino. "We got the guy, don't worry."

"So do you," Alexis counters, glancing to Kate over her grandmother's head. "We could reschedule though. It'd be… nice to catch up."

Kate offers her a tentative smile in return. "Yeah, it would."

"Well, in that case, we'll reconvene by this week. No later," Martha instructs, freeing her arms to wrap Kate in a tight embrace. "Thank you, Katherine. Richard would be… so grateful."

He's standing right there, watching it all like a voyeur, but her eyes still burn as she hugs Martha back.

"Thank you, Martha."

She doesn't expect the brief but firm hug from Alexis that follows.

"Is our… promise still good?" the girl whispers, her heart like a bird fluttering hard enough for Kate to feel the beat of its wings between them.

"Nothing's changed," Kate assures her, patting her back and pulling away to touch her hair. "This looks good, by the way."

Alexis ducks her head to hide the gentle spread of pink across her cheeks, but it offers Kate a glimpse of the girl she once knew.

"Dad would have killed me."

"I don't know," Kate muses, brushing a strand of the darkened hair behind Alexis's ear before withdrawing her hand. "I think he'd support whatever look you chose to sport, probably tell you to add a streak of purple or something."

Alexis's eyes flicker with light, her lips threatening to quirk. "Thanks, Kate."

Castle's mother and daughter part with her on the corner of sidewalk to slip into a cab and Kate sucks in her first deep breath of the day.

"You should stay with them tonight," she murmurs, well-practiced in the art of speaking with barely any movement from her lips.

"They don't need me," Castle sighs, but he doesn't sound upset. Just accepting, maybe even a little proud. "They're healing well."

"I didn't mean for them, I meant for you," she clarifies, pushing her hands into her coat pockets.

"I'm healing too. It's not so hard now, as long as I know they're safe."

She cuts her eyes to him, standing beside her with an apology written in his gaze, but she knows he's not sorry enough to regret risking his life earlier.

"I'm glad." And she is. Well, she would be if she wasn't so pissed at him right now.

"Did you skip out on dinner with them just so you could yell at me sooner?" Castle inquires with an arch of his brow.

Kate shakes her head and turns back towards the remains of the bank.

"It's not funny, Castle."

"I wasn't-"

"Not until we're in the car," she mumbles under her breath, nodding to Davis, the captain of the hostage negotiation team, to the other officers and survivors scattered across the scene.

But even once they're inside her Crown Vic and have pulled onto the streets, she doesn't say anything and neither does Rick. Part of her is relieved, too worn and exhausted to even begin addressing everything that's happened in the last few hours, but the rest of her burns with the urge to curse at him for scaring her so badly.

"I heard Alexis," is the first thing he dares to bring up as her apartment comes into view.

She takes the next turn a little too sharply, bangs his shoulder against the passenger door.

"That's what you're focusing on?" she mutters, easing into her usual parking spot along the sidewalk in front of her building.

He shrugs. "Always focusing on your life, how to sustain it."

Kate tightens her grip on the steering wheel before breathing out through her nose, reaching for the gearshift to put the car in park.

"So I'm not allowed to risk my life, but you're allowed to risk yours? To throw yourself into deadly situations without me while I just have to stand on the sidelines?" she gets out, her throat already burning with a mixture of tears and the growl scraping along her trachea.

"Yeah, Kate, you are. Because I don't have a life to lose anymore," he reminds her, sharp enough to slice through the scar at her side, puncture the one between her breasts.

"How can you say that?" she hisses, yanking her seatbelt off. "You still feel pain, don't you? If you would have died today, if you would have been blown up, you may not have come back."

"I couldn't leave my mother alone in there. You know that."

"Yes, I understand, but she wouldn't feel your death _again_. I _would_ ," Kate snaps, knowing it's selfish, knowing it's not fair to blame him. But his lack of concern for his current state of being, his casual acceptance of dying all over again, of leaving her, is cleaving her in two.

Kate shoves the car door open and slams it shut behind her. She doesn't look back to see if he's following as she storms through the entrance to her building's lobby, up the stairs, and down the hallway.

He's already waiting at her front door. Paranormal asshole.

"For what it's worth, I don't think I would have disappeared for good," he tries to reason.

"You don't know that," she growls, fumbling with her keys in the lock. He steadies her hand, covering it and guiding the key into the hole. She shakes off the drape of his palm and pushes the door open.

"Kate, I'm going to leave sooner or later. Whether I want to or not-"

"And you'd rather do that sooner than later?" she demands, dropping her keys on the table near the door and spinning around to face him. "If you want to go, Castle, no one's stopping you. I don't care if your purpose for existing has to do with me or not, I'm not your obligation."

" _Obligation_? Are you - Kate, it has nothing to do with what I want!" he shouts at her, surprising her. He's never raised his voice, only deepened it, darkened it. He's never yelled at her. "If I could choose how this new... existence went for me, I'd stay with you forever. _That_ is what I want. But you said it yourself, I'm here but I'm not. I'm not real."

She doesn't realize there are tears tripping down her cheeks until one clings stubbornly to the sharpened edge of her jaw, squared with the grit of her teeth. "You're real to me."

He's leans back into the surface of her front door and scrubs a hand down the side of his face, looking so ragged and worn. She doesn't think a supernatural spirit can age, but if anyone could age him, it would be her.

Castle's eyes meet hers with the misery leaching through every line of his face.

"We can't speak outside of your apartment or your car. No one can see me, I can't give you - I can't love you the way you're supposed to be loved."

"Supposed to?" she echoes and his lips twitch with that sad smile she hates.

"The way I could have loved you before, while I was still alive."

He's breaking her heart all over again.

"Kate, you deserve-"

But Kate is already shaking her head, doesn't want to hear what he _thinks_ she deserves, and striding forward before he can finish speaking the thought. Her hands rise to his cheeks as she arches on her toes, crashes into him. Castle catches her by the waist, groaning in a devastating mixture of sorrow and desire as she fuses her mouth to his.

His arms wind around her body, drawing her deep into the cove of his, every piece fitting into place.

He tastes just like she remembered.

"You love me better than anyone else could," she murmurs against his lips.

Rick frames her face in his hands, cradling her jaw in the warmth of his palms and brushing his thumbs to the corners of her mouth, as if he's touching her for the first time. Kate closes her eyes, lets the soft caress of his fingertips wander along the bones of her cheeks until she can't wait anymore, leaning in to to kiss him again.

He doesn't stop her, sighing into her mouth, sliding his fingers through her hair as she strokes her tongue along the seam of his lips. She kisses him slowly, thoroughly, canvassing his mouth with her tongue and ensuring that he feels every brush, every caress, until he's panting and chasing her mouth for more.

"How can you say you're not real?" she breathes, purposely grazing her lips over his as she speaks. "How could you feel that if you weren't real?"

He knocks his forehead against hers, shakes his head. "I don't know. I don't know how any of this works-"

"I don't care anymore," she sighs, snagging his bottom lip between her teeth.

Castle's arms tighten around her, one of his hands slipping beneath her shirt and spanning over her spine. Her hips jerk forward at the touch, into the cradle of his.

Kate gasps into his mouth.

"That definitely feels pretty real too," he breathes, driving her mad with the dance of his fingers along the bare skin of her back, up and down her vertebrae.

She allows her own fingers to trail from his cheeks, trickling down his throat to his chest, to the first button of his shirt. Her fingers slide the first disc free and then the next, until the fabric is sliding from his shoulders, revealing the naked flesh beneath. But before she can appreciate the beauty of his body before her, she eases the material away from the middle of his sternum, pushes it the rest of the way down his arms, to examine the scar that lies there.

It's identical to hers, a round pucker of flesh where the bullet went through.

Kate traces her fingertips to the spot, feels the grief welling in her chest. He must feel it too, feel the need to stop it, because he reaches for the hem of her blouse with both hands, coaxing her to lift her arms as he draws it over her head.

In just the lace of her bra, the scar between her breasts is exposed, the slash of dead tissue along her side where the surgeons sliced her open, dug the bullet out, on full display.

His breath catches, but not in horror. His eyes are scaling the length of her body, darkening by the second but still sparking with flashes of electricity, like lightning during a storm.

"You're just...beautiful. You're so beautiful, Kate." He mimics the placement of her hand on his chest, smoothing his fingers over the wound between her breasts. She cradles him there, holds his fingertips over the throbbing beat of her heart. She needs him, but she doesn't know… can they even…

She swallows hard. "As a ghost, do you still… want?"

Castle blinks, the realization spreading through his eyes with a fresh wave of arousal. "Always, Kate. That hasn't changed either."

A searing spill of heat rushes down her spine.

"I always want you," he murmurs as she tilts her chin, seeks the seal of his mouth again. "I always would."

She's arching on her toes again, needing to be closer, consumed by the intoxication of kissing him, of feeling the naked press of his skin hot and vivid against hers.

"Then please," she breathes, her throat catching on a moan when his hand travels from her scar to brush his knuckles down to her abdomen. Her muscles tremble and jump for him, her hips rocking forward. "Don't stop."

She hooks her fingers in the waistband of his slacks, drawing him forward as she walks backwards, the path to her bedroom clear.

Castle nods and tangles a hand in her hair, his mouth a combination of reverence and desperation over hers. It has her stumbling in their trek to her room, bumping into the doorway and pressing him so perfectly against her. She happily would have had him right there, but Rick hoists her up, letting her spine seal against the doorframe as he seals against her.

Kate drops her head back against wall, sucking in a breath that he steals with the drape of his mouth over the galloping beat of her pulse below her jaw.

"Castle," she moans, dragging her fingers through her hair and feeling his chest shudder against hers.

He carries her to the refuge her bed has become for them both.

"Kate," he whispers, descending to the soft surface of her mattress with her. She doesn't loosen the band of her arms around his neck, the twine of her fingers in his hair, or the coil of her legs at his waist, strengthening that last one and clashing his hips into hers again. He chokes on her name and struggles for breath at her collarbone. "Are you sure you want-"

She yanks on his hair, forcing him to lift his head.

"Yes," she murmurs, surging for his mouth, releasing her grip on his hair to stroke the tips of her fingers along his ears, down to graze along his jaw. "All I want is you."

He peels off the rest of her clothes and she pushes his pants, his boxers, down his legs, until there's nothing left between them. No space, no reality, only the hot press of skin and the drugging taste of his mouth, the stars behind her eyes and the beautiful burn of pleasure.

The way he loves her, whether it be possible or not, is extraordinary. The way he touches her will always haunt her skin, but it's far from ghostly. He brands her with every brush of his fingers, every splay of his palm, every stain of his mouth. He makes her feel more alive than anyone else ever has, ever could.

She's doesn't think she could ever give this up.

"We could stay like this," she whispers afterwards, her body still buzzing with aftershocks but draped warm and limp over his. She turns her head and dusts her lips over his chest, where his heart should be.

Castle's legs are twined with hers, his arms tangled around her upper body. She's never been so impossibly interlaced with another person, never desired the proximity, the constant touching. But the kiss of his flesh to nearly every inch of hers is something she never knew she needed.

Rick brushes a kiss to her forehead. "For the night?"

She hums and props her chin on his sternum, over his scar. He still appears rather dazed, the smile on his lips languid and his limbs post orgasm loose beneath her, but his eyes are a clear, mercurial blue.

"I was thinking a little longer," she murmurs, reaching up to comb the flop of hair back from his forehead.

"You want to stay in bed forever?" he grins, trailing his fingers down her spine. "I don't believe that was the purpose of my return to the living, but I'm more than happy to-"

"Castle," she huffs, tracing her fingertips over the apple of his cheek. "I'm not exactly opposed to that either, but-"

He gasps in delight and she rolls her eyes, taps her fingers to the upwards curve of his lips.

"I meant… we could just exist like this, couldn't we? Be together?"

She feels silly, like a girl asking her crush to promise forever far too soon. But Castle doesn't seem to find her words silly at all. He straightens up just enough to meet her eyes, stilling the hand at her back to cup her shoulder instead.

"Kate, I don't know how-"

"I know," she nods, smoothing her thumb along the hinge of his jaw. She pressed her mouth to that spot earlier, felt the way it worked under her lips, the brush of her tongue, as he gasped beneath her.

She already wants him again, wants to touch her mouth to every unexplored inch of skin and bone, but she needs to say this first. She needs him to know that she recognizes the second chance she's been given and that she's going to savor every second of it.

"I know there's no sure way for me to keep you, Castle. But as long as I can, as long as I do have you, I just… want to love you."

His eyes flare, ripple with the words.

"I love you, Rick," she whispers, her heart flipping with the way it sounds leaving her lips for the first time. "I'm not sure when it happened," she confesses, diverting her eyes to his chin and doing her best not to think about the overwhelming heat spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. "But I loved you before all of this, before the shooting, and I'm not going to miss the chance to say it this time, to show you."

"You showed me. Thoroughly," he assures her, the grin tugging at his lips, but his teasing gives way to that unabashed adoration he so often lets her see now. "I love you too, Kate. And I'll do whatever it takes to be here with you, make this last."

Something in her heart eases. She knows that no amount of words, sex, or promises can change the inevitable, but she can make every moment here in this beautiful between of life and death with him count. And for right now, that's enough for her.

"In the meantime," she murmurs, using the leg caught between his to ease herself atop his body. Their hips meet, stomachs graze, and their chests seal in a kiss that has her heart instantly accelerating. His throat bobs with a swallow that calls to her and Kate cranes her neck to touch her lips to the ripple of skin.

"Kate," he groans, bracketing her hips in his palms and dropping his head back against the pillow.

She grins, dips her tongue to the hollow of his throat, and earns the buck of his hips in response.

"Let me show you again," she mumbles into his skin, following the line of his throat to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Thoroughly."


	8. Chapter 8

For months, the unconventional way they exist together works.

He continues to work cases at the precinct with her, silent but efficient in their partnership. They spend the holidays together, snacking on Halloween candy and watching scary movies on her couch. He cooks her a small turkey on Thanksgiving so she can have leftovers to take for lunch, and even though she forces him to stay at the loft on Christmas Eve (W _hether they can see you or not, you should be there, Castle_ ), he's back in her bed by Christmas morning.

It sounds crazy, that she's never been happier than with the ghost of the man she was never able to love before his death. But she is.

They both know it can't last forever, but while it does, it's good.

Until Montgomery's home is robbed and the domino effect of her mother's case begins to fall yet again.

"Don't do this."

He's standing in the doorway of a bedroom that has become just as much his as it is hers. His things are scattered across her home, the few clothes he wears in her closet, his sparse number of belongings on her desk, her shelves, and his body in her bed every night with her.

She ignores him, pulling on her boots.

"Kate."

"I can do this," she says calmly, standing to grab her leather jacket from the armchair. But Castle steps in front of her. "Rick, we've got him. Cole Maddox is-"

"A sniper who put a bullet in your chest."

"The man who killed you," she corrects. "And I finally have a chance to take him down."

"Or to get yourself killed," he snaps, grabbing her hand and pulling it to his chest. She fists her fingers over the memorized place of his scar. "Kate, you told me that you wanted to do whatever we could to just be together. We have enough obstacles in accomplishing that without you throwing yourself into the line of fire."

She purses her lips. "I can't let this go. I promised myself, Alexis, and you - babe, you deserve justice."

"A life for a life is not the justice I want," he grits out.

"I don't plan to give my life," she growls back, jerking her hand back, but he tightens his grip.

"Kate, you are the most… remarkable, maddening, _frustrating_ person I've ever met. You always have been." He flattens her hand over his chest, sealing her palm there. "And from the moment we met, I never stopped hoping that in some way, I'd know what it was like to be yours."

The lump in her throat begins to form, connected to the knot of a scar in the middle of her chest and tugging.

"It's why every morning, I brought you a cup of coffee to see a smile on your face, why it was never about the books, why I couldn't stop showing up. I love you," he says with more conviction than she needs, even as the breath quivers past his lips. "And I don't want to give you up. I don't know if there was some greater purpose for me in coming back after my death, but all I want is to see my mother happy, watch my daughter grow up, and to be with you."

Kate curls her fingers beneath the blanket of his hand over hers and grips the front of his shirt, pulling him forward.

"Castle," she whispers, her eyes on their hands and her head dropping to his chin. Her heart has just barely healed from the bullet wound and now it's at war in her chest all over again.

"Cole Maddox may have pulled the trigger, but he's just a pawn, Kate." Rick nudges her forehead with his chin. She swallows hard, looks up to meet the crisp blue of his gaze. "He's another dead end like Dick Coonan. If you go after him on your own, it'll end the same way."

She sighs, hates when he's right. "Then what do I do, Rick?"

"Go after Maddox the right way, with backup, not just Esposito. Take him into custody and then interview him until he breaks," Castle lists, as if it's all so easy.

"This guy's a contract, a former soldier - nothing's going to break him," Kate mutters, withdrawing her hand from beneath his to rake through her hair. "We don't even know what he's after, why Montgomery's home was broken into."

"Maybe we could-"

The dance of her phone in her pocket quiets him. Kate huffs, digs the device from her jacket, and checks the caller ID, but doesn't recognize the number.

"Beckett," she answers, meeting the question in Castle's gaze with a shrug.

"Detective Beckett," the voice addresses. Male, steady, ominous. "I'm a friend of Roy Montgomery's and we need to talk."

* * *

Michael Smith, as he called himself, turns out to be the key she needs. The man who holds all the cards, all her answers, and the location of a file that contains it all.

"With Montgomery gone, the deal has been off. None of us are safe anymore and time has run out, Detective," Smith informs hers. "At this address, you will find a safe on the third floor. The file will be inside and it has everything you need to proceed with your mother's case, to potentially keep yourself alive. But you may not have the time, they're coming for you. Soon."

"What about you?" Kate questions, her mind already wandering out of the apartment, speeding to the secret destination Smith shared. She needs that file.

"I disappear. As I would advise you to do as well."

"I don't run from my problems, Mr. Smith," she states, zipping up her leather jacket.

"Admirable, but this isn't just a problem, Beckett. This is a war and it's one you will not win," he tells her, no room for argument in his tone. Not that that's going to stop her from preparing one. But Smith silences her before she can speak. "Unless you want to end up like your friend, Richard Castle, I would take my advice. Go on the run, Detective. Find yourself a home in the shadows for a while, until the storm settles, and then you can emerge, make a new life for yourself. Find a man who will love you, maybe a dog-"

"The man who loved me is dead," Kate growls, even as his spirit stands close at her back and feeds the fire of her fury with his warmth. "I don't want to survive in shadows, I want justice for him, for my mother."

"Detective, you are radioactive. You can't even help yourself and if you haven't noticed, everyone around you, everyone you care about, dies." Smith's words sting, each syllable searing, but the statement isn't cruel. Just fact. "Do you have to die too before that finally sinks in?"

Kate releases a breath, but it fails to calm the tremble of her hand at her side.

"But that's your choice. I've made mine."

"Smith, wait-"

"We've been on the line too long. I have to go." He pauses for a heartbeat. "Goodbye, Detective Beckett."

The line goes dead, but it takes her a long moment to lower the phone from her ear.

"Do you think he's right?" she whispers, the phone clutched loosely in her grasp.

Castle catches it before it can slip from her fingers. "About?"

"Me," she murmurs, swallowing before she turns around. He looks as if he's holding his breath and it tells her all she needs to know.

"Let me take you someplace, Kate. Somewhere you'll be safe." Castle cradles her cheek in his palm. "Somewhere we can be safe together."

She takes his hand from her face, traps it between both of hers.

"I just told Smith I don't run," she reminds him, because she doesn't. When it comes to fight or flight, she is more than ready for battle.

"Is it really running, or is it taking control of your life for once?" Rick challenges. "Because right now, they are in control, Kate."

She shakes her head, but the sliver of doubt forming in her stomach has her gut is twisting itself into knots. "They don't know what they're up against."

"I - you know I have all the faith in the world in you, but I think they _do_ know. And I think if you go after them like this, you'll be playing right into their trap."

She wants to tell him he's wrong, to reinforce what she told Josh in the hospital, that she wants them to come for her, bring the war to her doorstep. She wants him to be wrong, wants to make her stand, to fight to the death, but, for once... she fears that she has too much to lose.

"Going away, it doesn't have to be forever," he points out, curling his fingers to catch hers, drawing her body a few inches closer. "Just until the war isn't waging so heavily. We can go get the file, disappear for just a little while, come up with a game plan-"

"Castle," she sighs, watching the hope in his eyes threaten to crumble. "Where would we even go?"

"My home in the Hamptons could work for a while. Secluded yet familiar, currently unused by any family members, and it has a beach."

Her lips quirk even though her heart feels as if it's cracking open. "You want to hide out in the Hamptons?"

"Not the worst place to hole up," he muses, raising their tangled hands to rest over her chest and brushing his knuckles to her sternum, over her scar. "Not a bad compromise either."

Kate purses her lips and meets his eyes, all attempts of lightheartedness gone.

"I have to tell Ryan and Esposito," she begins. "So we can continue coordinating on the case even while Maddox's boss thinks I'm gone."

"Which will work out perfectly because they're _going_ to catch Maddox. They'll have him in custody, be able to interrogate him, but we won't even need his answers because we'll already have them," Castle grins, the hope in his eyes blooming brighter, sparking a tentative spread of light through her chest. "You'll be safe, but still working the case."

She sighs, it's too good to be true, but she wants it to be, wants it to be this easy for once. "Not a bad compromise."

"And we'll actually be able to talk outside," he adds with a wiggle of his brow.

The laugh that slips past her lips, during a time she never would have expected, breaks the vice around her heart.

"Yeah, well, as long as I get to be with you," she chuckles, glancing down to the knot of their hands.

"Pretty sure you're stuck with me for a while longer, Beckett," he murmurs, twining his fingers through hers and letting their hands fall between them. But his eyes are serious when she lifts hers, searching her face for signs of doubt. "You sure you're okay with that?"

Kate squeezes his fingers and elevates on the toes of her boots. She brushes a kiss to his mouth that is chaste but slow, lasting. She's turning her back on her mother's case, on her promise to Alexis, on justice for the man kissing her, but she's also trying to live for him.

"I know what I want."

He exhales against her lips, a quiet breath of relief, and Kate opens her eyes.

Just in time to see the flicker of light reflecting off the steel door of her refrigerator. Her eyes narrow in on the shine, but realization doesn't strike her quick enough.

Not before the bullet strikes him.

" _Castle_ -"

But the choke of his name is all she's able to manage before she's staggering forward, crumpling to the floor and taking him with her. She already feels the bullet back home in her chest.


	9. Chapter 9

The bullet pierces through them both.

Again.

Only this time, she's not taken down with one quick shot as she was months ago in the cemetery. She feels the second the gunshot rips through her, spearing through her back and forcing her to her knees, down to the wood of the floor just as another shatters through her ribcage.

Whoever sent multiple bullets flying through her window, whether it be Maddox again or another lackey for the dragon, wasn't taking any chances this time. They wanted her dead and without any chance of survival.

And there wasn't one; there was no surviving this.

Castle manages to hold onto her as the bullets hit their mark, tearing through her to reach him. She doesn't even realize that first bullet went through her chest, into his, until they're both lying side by side and tangled on the ground.

"Kate," he gasps, grunting as he tries to push up onto his elbow, but he crumples just as he did on that day in the cemetery. Only this time, the crimson of his blood spills onto her floor instead of the grass.

"No," she moans, the tears clogging her throat. Not again. "Not like this."

It can't end like this, not when they had so many plans, when she was just about to run away with him to the beach, not when she was willing to give up everything for them.

"It's going to be okay, you're going to be okay," he promises, struggling but able to lift his arm, stroke his fingers through her hair.

"No, don't leave. I need - be with you," she breathes, her arm struggling to bend, reach for him. But it flops uselessly at her side. "Together."

His brow knits and her fingers burn with the urge to smooth away the crease of confusion.

"You know I'm with you," he murmurs, but her eyes dart to the bloom of red across his sternum. "Just... not like this anymore."

"Castle," she pleads, but her voice is falling apart and tears are spilling from the corners of her eyes to bleed into her hair. "Please-"

"You have to keep breathing, love. Just keep breathing," he instructs softly, his voice growing faint as her eyes start to fall.

She tries to follow his instructions, but the ache is too strong, the sky replacing the ceiling overhead all wrong, and she can barely stay awake, let alone keep her breathing steady.

"You have to go back, Kate."

Her brow knits. She tries to blink, open her eyes to question him since her voice refuses to come, but she's already drifting.

 _Back?_

"Kate, you have to stay with me," he whispers, the blues of his eyes blurring with tears, the sun shooting streaks of gold through his hair. He sounds like a dream, a memory. "Don't leave me, please."

But the world around them is too bright, burning white, and he's fading away, his voice drowned out by the screech of a heart monitor. Everything collides.

Kate jerks awake in the hospital bed, gasping and choking on the pain searing through her chest, setting her upper body aflame and springing tears to her eyes.

"Kate, Kate, shh," his voice washes over her, does little to soothe the fire consuming her from the inside out. But it does tug her gaze towards him, the body towering over her, reassures her of his survival.

"Castle," she breathes out, the exhale of his name scraping painfully up and out of her throat. Her eyes flutter closed as his hand grazes the damp skin of her forehead, brushes the loose strands of hair from her face. "You're okay."

His brow furrows. "I'm fine. You're the one who - I'm definitely not the one to worry about here, Kate."

"No," she murmurs, his chest close enough for her to snag her fingers in his shirt, hooking in the fabric to hold on. "The bullet."

Castle covers her hand, squeezes her trembling fingers before nodding downwards, towards her chest. "Hit there."

"Not you?" she asks, just to be certain, despite the strange looks he keeps giving her.

"Not me," he confirms.

Beckett slowly lets go of his shirt, lowers her hand back to her side, and releases a shallow breath that burns.

"Hey, it's okay," he whispers, brushing away the tears that just won't streaming from the corners of her eyes into her hair. "I know it hurts, Kate. I know, but-"

"No," she rasps, turning towards the caress of his touch. Her lips graze the inside of his wrist and she can feel the faint skip of a pulse beneath her mouth. He... he has a pulse. "Rick, you - weren't shot?"

His brow furrows for only a moment before he shakes his head. "No, well - a graze, just a graze when I was trying to reach you."

He shifts a little to show her the wrapped edge of his shoulder, the sleeve of his shirt cut away to tend to the wound. It's then that she notices he's wearing all black. Funeral clothes.

"On the upside, the doctor says it lessened the impact a little." He tries to smile, but his lips are barely able to curve. He looks so tired, his eyes underlined with dashes of purple, his cheeks sallow, and his hair is a mess from the incessant habit he has of running his hands through it when he's anxious.

This isn't the same man she just spent months living with, loving. This is... back to the beginning.

 _You have to go back, Kate._

"You... tackled me," she murmurs, staring at the bandage around his arm. "At Montgomery's funeral."

He nods slowly and her heart is already on fire, but the burn only gets worse, spreading to her eyes, sending a fresh wave of tears down her cheeks.

It wasn't real. She feels as if she lived an entire lifetime in a matter of hours and none of it was real.

She has to grieve him all over again.

"Kate, please don't cry," he whispers, easing down onto the edge of her bed. "It's - you're going to be okay, I promise."

"Not without you," she rasps, feeling his thumb stutter at the bone of her cheek. What's the point without him?

"Without me?" he echoes, letting his hand drop from her face to land softly at her shoulder. "I'm right here. I won't go anywhere. Unless you want me to."

She remembers her own words, real or not.

 _I realized everything too late._

Imagined or not, whether it was a dream or a hallucination, she made the most of her second chance with him. She told him she loved him before she was shot and she did, she _does_ , and she can't keep losing him, can't keep losing the opportunity not just to tell him, but to show him.

Because just like in the dream, the other world she created with a ghost, she wanted him more than all else - more than a case, more than justice. She wanted to be more with him.

Even if she has to start over, she wants to love him.

"Did you - did you mean it?" she murmurs, blinking away the moisture blurring her view of him. It allows her to catch the hitch in his breathing, the ripple of his throat as he swallows.

"I - how much do you remember? After I tackled you."

"Everything," she whispers, watching his eyes flare and his chest pause mid breath. "At least, I think I do. Everything you said." She attempts a careful sigh. "Hope I do. Did I imagine you..."

"No," he assures her, but she doesn't think he realizes how crucial it is that he clarifies. "You didn't imagine me telling you I loved you."

The agony of the gunshot wound doesn't dull, but her heart exalts with relief.

"Good," she breathes, able to relax a little deeper into the pillow at her back.

"Good?" he repeats, his voice a little higher, unsteady with nerves. Her lips quirk and Kate turns her palm up at her side, flicks her eyes to her empty hand. His gaze is quick to follow, his hand quick to cradle hers, holding her fingers as if the touch is all brand new, something precious.

"Yeah, Castle," she sighs softly. He's staring at her with so much, the same fear and desperation she saw when he was hovering above her in the cemetery, the same bright blue adoration she saw so regularly in a life that was apparently never hers, but the way he looks so openly in love with her... not even in a dream could she imagine how beautiful that could be. "Because I love you too."


End file.
